Lyrics

Walkin' around your party, like where the party at? (Yo, where the party at?)
Yeah, Bacardí and 'Gnac could lead to a cardiac
But I'm drunk and I give a fuck, like how Cardi act (Cardi)
I'm already back, I just had to run to my car to yack
Headache, an Aleve, I'ma need eight of 'em (Woah)
For pete's sake, I've been steppin' on leaf rakes again (Ow)
I keep wakin' up in the bed with complete strangers (The fuck are you?)
And I eat prazosin, get more chicks than Pete Davidson (Woah)
Man, I can't help it, I'm me (No), I got the devil in me (Yup)
Let me put it more delicately (Here)
Fuck your feelings, I'm a felon, pussy, you're jealous of me
Prolly 'cause my cerebellum's a parabellum, pussy
Even if I swear to celibacy, I'd still be like a female that's hooking (Why?)
Ain't shit you can do to stop me from sellin', pussy (Oh)
Yeah, warped mind, your rhymes
Are so fuckin' washed up, I call 'em shorelines (Woo)
But as long as a nine-year-old's mind is washable
I'ma search till I find the most awfullest line as possible (Yeah)
Mind is off, all I need is a small little pint of vodka
To be talked into tryna walk up inside of a Shriner's hospital and (*Gunfire*)
They're tryna make Marshall the guy responsible (For what?)
For little Joshua's giant arsenal
Like I'm also the reason his 9 is cocked and he brought his tool
And decides to hide it inside of his locker till the next time he's picked on at school
But you're out of your gourd if you're thinkin' that I ain't killin' this beat
I'm not even forcin' myself to vomit, but if I had a fuckin' eating disorder
Or anorexia, believe me, I couldn't body this more for ya (Yeah)
Man, I'm beyond childish (Bitch)
When I'm on Valiums (Yeah), just like mom downs 'em
They call it Munchausen (Why?)
'Cause she hands me some (Here)
Then says: C'mon, chow, son (Chow, son)
These are non-drowsin' (Uhh?)
I mean non-drowsy (Right), but they'll help you calm down some
So, before I zonk out, I'm tryna make Rob proud
I'm hopin' this song riles him
I pop like nine thousand, I'm outtie, five-thousand (Oh)
Hold up (One more thing)
Spit syllables on the mic in the booth
Like I'm at Drew's, even if I win or lose
I'm in the news, even my interviews (Yeah)
Get like five million views, I get accused
Of misogyny because I will massage any bitch just like a masseuse
Mixin' NyQuil and booze, Heineken brews
Hide 'em inside of my shoes, ah (Psych, what the fuck?)
I'm just playin' (Fuckin' mumble rap)